Twice Bitten, Once Shy: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #5

Chapter 5

"You're very kind," Captain Mel says. "Is this the VIP you mentioned on the phone?"

Jade and Captain Mel both pause for Zandra to introduce herself. She hacks into her sleeve instead.

"Uh, yes, this is Zandra, the psychic," Jade says. "All of our instructors are VIPs, but you might say she's our VVIP."

A WIP. Or a VVitch.

"Well, I hope you only see smooth sailing ahead," Captain Mel says to Zandra.

Zandra looks up at the smokestack. "I don't see a sail."

Captain Mel seems confused. Jade forces a laugh. Captain Mel follows suit. Zandra coughs into her sleeve again.

"Well, I've got to get back to it," Captain Mel says. "Let me know if you need anything. We're here to help."

Jade leads Zandra into the main level of the boat, sandwiched between the top and bottom levels. A sign above the double-door entrance reads, "Welcome to the Curd Queen." A bowl of cheese curds waits on a small table just inside the entrance. The freshness of the bowl's contents is indicated by the broth of whey the curds lurk inside.

"Captain Mel says everyone who comes aboard should have a cheese curd," Jade says. "If it squeaks, it's good luck."

As every good Wisconsinite knows, fresh cheese curds "squeak" when bitten. If it doesn't squeak, it's not a cheese curd.

How long have these been sitting here? And how many fingers have been inside of that bowl?

"You first," Zandra says to Jade.

Jade plucks a cheese curd from the bowl. She pops it into her mouth. It squeaks like a mouse.

"Super fresh. I think the crew brought these in from the creamery this morning," Jade says. "Go ahead."

No wonder they couldn't pay up after pizza. Not that cheese curds are expensive, but this better be one hell of a turnout. In the Midwest, they say the two best days of your life are when you buy a boat and when you sell the boat. These things are money pits before the extras get tabbed, even if the Curd Queen is only getting rented out.

"I'll pass," Zandra says.

"Oh, come on. It's for luck," Jade says.

"Fine."

Zandra pinches a curd from the bowl and drops it into her mouth.

No squeak.

Well, shit.

Zandra bites again.

Still no squeak.

"Did it squeak?" Jade says.

"Yes," Zandra says. "Good luck, everyone."

Beyond the entrance is a lounge that isn't aware the 1960s finished several decades ago. From the sofas to the carpeting to the bar, it's so out of date that it's probably back in fashion again. This is offset by the relatively good condition the furnishings appear. Windows wrap around the lounge in place of proper walls, providing a panoramic view.

A smattering of people mills near the bar and in the sofas. Most have their backs to Zandra and Jade.

Must be the instructors.

Zandra follows Jade to a tall man sipping a cocktail and looking out one of the windows alone.

"Enjoying the view?" Jade says.

I doubt it. He's looking out at a pile of trash on the shore.

The tall man turns and smiles as he says, "Ah, Jade, so good to see you."